


hurts too much

by Areiton



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, POV Second Person, POV Stiles, Past Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pining, Post-Relationship, Regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:52:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: You watch him sometimes.He’s happy, you think.You hope.The bitch of it is--you don’tknowand you don’t have the right to ask.





	hurts too much

**Author's Note:**

> Look I don't even know. It's been rattling around for weeks so here. Have a sad fucking thing.

You watch him sometimes. 

He’s happy, you think. 

You hope. 

The bitch of it is--you don’t  _ know _ and you don’t have the right to ask. 

You watch him, and you think about it. 

~*~ 

There was one summer. 

Just one. You can count on one hand how often it happened. 

You even know why it ended. He ended it, because it wasn’t fair. Not to you, not to him. 

Not to her. 

Lydia loved you, and you love her. 

And you loved him. 

You love him, so much it aches, this breathless hurt in your gut that never quite eases. 

_ It hurts too much.  _

_ ~*~  _

You were friends first. Unlikely, impossibly, friends. 

And that’s all you wanted. 

You respected him. For longer than you were friends, you respected him, watched how he was with the others and the pack and you thought he was good. Despite it all, despite everything that was stacked against him, Derek Hale was a good person. 

You’ve spent a long time, thinking about when it changed. If it was the midnight conversations, or the lazy Saturdays, if it was when he leaned over you and pointed at your research and corrected it, gentle and brilliant, or when he looked at you while you rambled, like your words and thoughts were the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard. 

You don’t  _ know _ when you changed, when respect slid into like, when like slipped into something that tasted liked want. 

You only know the night he turned to you, grinning, and you kissed him, drunk and bold and needy--he didn’t stop you. 

He kissed you. 

He whispered want and promises into your skin as he held you still and sucked you off and you came with a shout down his throat and it was only then you realized just how much you loved him. 

~*~ 

It was sex and if that’s all it was--the dirty texts and mind numbingly hot sex, if it was only his stubble burning into your skin while he mumbled about how he couldn’t stop thinking about you--if it was only that. 

You think you would have gotten over it. 

Sex was easy to let of. To get over. 

But it wasn’t--it was  _ more,  _ and that. 

That was harder. 

That’s what hurt. 

~*~ 

It was over almost before it started. 

There was Braeden, and Lydia, and neither of you able to commit. 

Sometimes you wonder, what would have happened, if you weren’t with Lydia. If he would have ended things with Braeden, to be with you. 

You try not to think about that because your gut says yes, and your gut has never been far off when it comes to Derek Hale. 

~*~ 

_ It hurts too much. _

That’s what he said, the day he left. 

You didn’t stop him. 

You let him walk away and held close the memories because the memories were all you had, and you hated yourself a little, because you think you got the raw end of the deal. You think you both did. 

You don’t regret it. But there is something in you, that does. 

That would box it back up and step away in that kitchen with too much wine and too many confessions.

You would rather have him, his friendship and gentle wanting smile, then empty memories of fleeting orgasms and his sweaty body draped heavy over yours. 

~*~ 

It’s been years, now. 

And sometimes--not as often, but sometimes--you find yourself missing him. Aching to sink down next to him, and lean into his side, to let him wrap around you and murmur into your hair and lick into your mouth, and fuck into your body. 

You miss the friend who listened to you ramble, and watched you like were precious, and you miss the spark of happiness when you saw him, and the way his eyes would brighten, like you were the best part of his day. 

You miss him, still, so much you think everyone must know. 

~*~ 

No one knows. 

No one ever knew. 

Derek was your secret, and you were his, and maybe that was why it never worked. 

~*~ 

_ It hurts too much.  _

That’s what he said, and as you see him ambling through Beacon Hills, his head dipped down and a lazy smile on his face as he watches the pretty beta wolf he brought back from Mexico--you understand. 

It hurts so fucking much. 

You love him, still. 

You think maybe you always will. 

Lydia leans into you and you turn away as you kiss her hair, turn your back on a closed chapter in your life. 

Derek isn’t yours--not now, maybe not ever. Maybe that was all a fever dream in the heat of summer--maybe you imagined it all. 

It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in Beacon Hills. 

~*~ 

You turn away and you don’t check, to see if his eyes follow you. 

You don’t know which you want more: him to be happy without you, or his gaze tracking you, avid and hungry and yours. 

You don’t look back but you understand it. Why he left. 

Why you don’t look back. 

_ It hurts too much.  _


End file.
